Array ( [sid] => 184807 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => I The Fool Treasured So [time] => 2018-01-20 04:00:27 [hometext] => Frost, here, alludes to Robert Frost and two poems, The Road Not Taken and Swinger of Birches. google if not know [bodytext] => Climbing out the center of my coffin, switching kitchen lights off, locking the back door;
off to breathe the air of trees in a place by me not seen before.
In confusion of myself, groping mind-blind to a sunbeam,
urging names all past, “Oh, please remain. Don’t leave me, don’t LEAVE me! Don’t lea-”,
trees barked laughter then cruel brook babbling joined; thorns thirsted blood the more they tore from me.
Frost swooped icy birch, near to springing back to heaven; my aria; “Birch, take me, take ME!, take-”
Away! When sprung to earth Frost nudged, “Two paths, Invierno, trod well, the other less”,
“Trod however slight”, said I, “they both suffer stain of cobbled feet”. “Aha, hmm.. yes, I see”.
A nod, a frown, he bounded off to find more trees to climb, to swing down, to feel released.
But chains weighed me so I could not climb, links thicker for each name forgot;
lovers, friends and enemies, I touch their face, see the place, then fog does fog till no trace remains.
Memories know I a day will come, when all those rusty things I the fool treasured so
will be as nothing; on the swap, all of it for just some simple names; “Take it all, take it ALL! Take-”
My yell cracked ice to swing back to my ears, frozen pebbles tearful squat my cheeks,
legs scraped and torn decide to cease to move my feet, parked at edge of salmon dancing glacial angst;
a slip of day, no dawn, no dusk, just marriage of my soul to me;
at last smile found my lips to turn whilst wind sought to freeze my teeth, my skin to burn; I let it have its way;
when I quit the fight, names popped like sparklers, lit my eyes in fond recall,
footless now I asked a log, "Do you mind propping up a happy man?" I explained I would not forget his name,
“And Log, it’s right and true that wolves should tear, would rip energy with every bite of me;
and Log, you see that only at the last, do see I created all my pain, allowed sorrow theft of all my joy?"
But joy and joy reigns glorious this final day.
"Hark! Frozen mountains, names, all, I bid thee adieu!"
"I like this smile, I like this smile…this truth". [comments] => 5 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 74 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => surreal ) Your Poetry Dot Com - I The Fool Treasured So


I The Fool Treasured So
Date: Saturday, 20th January 2018 @ 04:00:27 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: invierno
Climbing out the center of my coffin, switching kitchen lights off, locking the back door;
off to breathe the air of trees in a place by me not seen before.
In confusion of myself, groping mind-blind to a sunbeam,
urging names all past, “Oh, please remain. Don’t leave me, don’t LEAVE me! Don’t lea-”,
trees barked laughter then cruel brook babbling joined; thorns thirsted blood the more they tore from me.
Frost swooped icy birch, near to springing back to heaven; my aria; “Birch, take me, take ME!, take-”
Away! When sprung to earth Frost nudged, “Two paths, Invierno, trod well, the other less”,
“Trod however slight”, said I, “they both suffer stain of cobbled feet”. “Aha, hmm.. yes, I see”.
A nod, a frown, he bounded off to find more trees to climb, to swing down, to feel released.
But chains weighed me so I could not climb, links thicker for each name forgot;
lovers, friends and enemies, I touch their face, see the place, then fog does fog till no trace remains.
Memories know I a day will come, when all those rusty things I the fool treasured so
will be as nothing; on the swap, all of it for just some simple names; “Take it all, take it ALL! Take-”
My yell cracked ice to swing back to my ears, frozen pebbles tearful squat my cheeks,
legs scraped and torn decide to cease to move my feet, parked at edge of salmon dancing glacial angst;
a slip of day, no dawn, no dusk, just marriage of my soul to me;
at last smile found my lips to turn whilst wind sought to freeze my teeth, my skin to burn; I let it have its way;
when I quit the fight, names popped like sparklers, lit my eyes in fond recall,
footless now I asked a log, "Do you mind propping up a happy man?" I explained I would not forget his name,
“And Log, it’s right and true that wolves should tear, would rip energy with every bite of me;
and Log, you see that only at the last, do see I created all my pain, allowed sorrow theft of all my joy?"
But joy and joy reigns glorious this final day.
"Hark! Frozen mountains, names, all, I bid thee adieu!"
"I like this smile, I like this smile…this truth".

This poem is Copyright © invierno


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